


Now you know

by gang_gang



Category: Universal Century Gundam, Zeta Gundam, 機動戦士ガンダム 逆襲のシャア | Gundam: Char's Counterattack
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Coffee, Can be interpreted as Kamille/Fa but i wrote them as platonic, Canon-Typical Violence, Descriptions of Injury, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Post-Canon, Terrible Coping Habits, newtype bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gang_gang/pseuds/gang_gang
Summary: Kamille, bowed over the stretcher beside her, looked just as shocked as she was. He was dressed head-to-toe in a disposable turquoise gown, cap, gloves, and surgical mask, but Fa recognised his eyes immediately. The two of them both straightened up at once. Under the mask, Fa saw his jaw open and close in surprise but no words came out of his mouth.Where Kamille and Fa find themselves during the 2nd Neo Zeon War.





	Now you know

The expanse of Mare Nectaris stretched before her. The only thing Fa could hear was her own pounding heartbeat and ragged breath fogging the inside of her helmet. Her ears throbbed with each pulse until it was deafening in the silence of space. 

She shifted her grip on the wrist of the barely conscious pilot slumped against her side, arm over her shoulder. When she turned her head, she could only faintly see his face through the blood splatter that coated his visor and the strip of orange tape that was the only thing keeping his helmet from falling to pieces.  
‘C’mon, Cornelio, stay with me. Don’t go to sleep.’  
Warrant Officer Frey Cornelio coughed weakly in response, the audio crackling in her ear.

‘You shouldn’t have come after me, Lieutenant-’  
‘Enough of that,’ she said between breaths. ‘You need to save oxygen.’  
‘There’s no point,’ the young man muttered. ‘The fight is lost, anyway… you should’ve… gone back to the ship-’  
‘I said _enough,_ Cornelio. We’re almost out of the dead zone. You’re going to be fine, the rest of the unit are going to be fine. They can manage without us.’  
Frey moaned gently.

Fa looked back up at the horizon of the lunar surface. Von Braun City lay thirty kilometers somewhere over the edge, but it would be another five before she would escape the cloud of Minovsky particles and finally be able to radio for a shuttle. Quickly, she ran the numbers over in her head. Oxygen would only last her another twenty minutes, less so for her dying companion. She had been walking in the awkward bouncing gait needed to navigate the moon’s gravity for more than two hours and her legs were screaming for rest, but instead she picked up the pace. There was no time, there was never enough time. Sweat beaded on her forehead and drifted around the inside of her helmet. The Earth was the only thing keeping Fa oriented without satnav. It hung in the black sky, illuminating the dust that rose in lazy clouds behind her. She watched the jagged black shadow that cut across its silhouette steadily grow smaller as time went on. Distant lights flickered around it like cinders of a dying fire.

The battle between Londo Bell and Neo Zeon forces was entering its late stage and tension was running high, bordering on desperation, as Axis crept closer to Earth. Fa tried to stifle the thought of the battle, the moment she was sure she was going to die when a Hizack shot out her Jegan’s main engine, the feeling of the crash impact, the sight of the pilot crushed where he lay under the caved-in cockpit dashboard. The thought of what will happen if Londo Bell fails. She shook her head. The only thing that mattered now was that she kept walking, that she kept placing one foot over the other.

Fifteen minutes passed. Fa’s breathing was growing laboured. The image of the Earth was burned into her retina and drawing red streaks across her vision. Her heartbeat and the ringing in her ears was becoming unbearably loud. The lack of atmosphere gave her no sense of distance and she had no idea how far she had to go now, and with a spike of panic, Fa wondered whether she was even going in the right direction.

‘Cornelio, are you still with me?’ she asked between gasps.  
There was no reply from her companion.  
‘Hey, Cornelio... can you hear me? Frey?’  
Silence.  
Fa swore quietly.  
She tried the radio again for what felt like the hundredth time.  
‘To all… all EFSF channels, do you read me? Requesting emergency medical shuttle pickup, approximately thirty kilometers south... Von Braun city limits… To all open channels... do you read me?’  
All she heard was the hiss of static with the faint suggestion of voices distorting it.  
‘To all EFSF channels, do you-’  
A rock caught the edge of her dragging boot and Fa tripped. She hit the ground in slow motion, throwing up a cloud of dust and gravel with her shoulder. Frey tumbled gently off her shoulders and rolled onto the ground, face-down.

Fa lay on her back and silently willed her muscles to move, but they did not. It would be so easy to just lay her hands on the ground and straighten up, but her arms refused to budge. Her legs refused to bend. Her body was caught in a vice, her lungs crushed, her heart pounding so hard it felt like her chest was about to crack open.

‘Frey-’ Fa croaked, barely able to hear herself over the hissing in her ears. 

There was no response from Frey, who lay prone where he had fell.

‘I’m sorry, Frey…’ 

Tears floated inside her helmet and became trapped in her eyelashes.

‘I’m so sorry…’

She stared at the sky as her vision faded. Little red lights twinkled back at her from space.

_How strange,_ was her last thought. _I thought stars weren’t visible from the moon._

The red lights swum towards the center of her vision into three white points that grew larger, and larger, and larger, until all she saw was light.

*

Fa awoke with a violent jerk, her body jump-starting itself in fits.  
‘Easy, easy,’ a voice said.  
She gasped for air, and felt a rush of oxygen fill her lungs. She pulled it in, again and again, letting the clean air flood her chest until her vision cleared and her hands stopped shaking. She sat upright roughly, feeling a hand on her shoulder.  
‘You’re real lucky we heard you, y’know that? You’re a lucky one.’  
Fa blinked. She was inside a cramped shuttle with harsh fluorescent lighting bouncing off the walls, crammed with pockets of medical supplies. Someone dressed in a bright orange normal suit bent over her. Her legs were strapped to a stretcher and a large blood oxygen clip had been attached over her left index finger, gloves removed. There was gauze on her forehead. They found me.

‘Where is-’ she sputtered.  
‘Your friend is fine,’ said the woman in the suit, pulling herself to one side. On the other side of the shuttle, Frey had been strapped head-to-toe to a stretcher bolted to the wall. A bag of artificial blood floated over the top of him, the line feeding into his exposed arm. He was semi-unconscious, his face as white as the shuttle interior, his lips and gums stained black with dried blood. An oxygen mask was hooked over his face, and Fa noticed they had given her one as well. His eyelids flickered restlessly.  
He was very young, she realised. Too young. His dark hair was slick with sweat, his glasses hung loosely on his face, the frames cracked. He had insisted he wear them, Fa recalled. He hated contacts.

‘We’ll be at Von Braun hospital in a minute’s time,’ said the paramedic. ‘He’s alive for now. We may be just in time, thanks to you.’

Fa sighed deeply in relief.  
‘Thank you.’

*

Outside the emergency room, medical staff were already waiting for them. Fa helped the two other paramedics hoist Frey’s stretcher down the shuttle’s ramp and towards the wide doorway. His breathing was quick and shallow, misting the underside of his mask in rapid intervals. Droplets of sweat and blood left streaks on his neck.  
The staff sprung into action.  
‘Place him on triage 1- can I get the nurse practitioner over?’  
‘We’re in bay 12; we’re going to have to fast-track the last three patients.’  
‘Where’s the nurse scribe? I need an extra tag-’  
‘Dumitru, can you tell the trauma team they need to prepare for intubation?’

The doors swung open automatically and revealed the crowded ER. The hospital was big- one of the biggest and most modern in the Earth sphere- and it was still groaning under the weight of the war. EFSF and Neo Zeon soldiers lay dying side-by-side on stretchers and beds while the mass of patients who were still able to sit or stand clung to the walls in the waiting area. The noise hit Fa’s ears in a cascade of information - the hurried talk of the medical staff, the beeping and chiming of electronic equipment, and all throughout it, the screams and animalistic moans of human beings in pain.

Her eyes stayed glued to Frey as medical staff pushed the stretcher into one of few empty bays.

‘I need a haemostatic dressing kit immediately, SBP is starting to go below 80-’  
‘Don’t worry, we’re turning over to the trauma team now.’

The staff bustled around her and the stretcher and new footsteps approached them. Fa watched Frey’s chest rise and fall spasmodically as someone sliced open the seam of his normal suit with a pair of scissors, peeling back the layers like the rind of an overripe fruit. Fa felt bile rise in her throat at the sight underneath. 

It hadn’t seemed so bad on the outside. Now she could see that the impact of the crash had caved in his ribcage, his sternum was crushed, his skin was buried under a thick layer of blood that stuck to the inside of the suit as it was pulled away. She stared at the crater that was once his chest until her vision was swimming with red and black.

Fa was jerked back to reality as the vitals monitor sprung to life above them, its alarm tone blaring. The head consultant took her place at the foot of the stretcher.  
‘Can we get O negative and a rapid infuser ready, and an intraosseous 25 gauge?’  
‘It’s coming- I can’t find any 4mm airway catheters-’  
‘Look in the crate in the nurses’ station, if not then 6mm will be fine. There will be extra lidocaine as well, make sure it’s the 2%.’  
‘Okay, Ma’am.’  
Fa felt a gloved hand on her forearm.  
‘I’m sorry, miss, I need to ask you to-’  
Fa looked up, realising she had been holding onto the side of the stretcher in a white-knuckled grip. Then her eyes widened and everything happening around her seemed to freeze.

Kamille, bowed over the stretcher beside her, looked just as shocked as she was. He was dressed head-to-toe in a disposable turquoise gown, cap, gloves, and surgical mask, but Fa recognised his eyes immediately. The two of them both straightened up at once. Under the mask, Fa saw his jaw open and close in surprise but no words came out of his mouth.  
‘Kamille, the nurses’ station,’ the consultant reminded him patiently.  
‘Ye- yes,’ he managed, still staring. Then he finally tore his gaze away from Fa and ran down the aisle. He returned a second later with a bundle of sterile plastic packages and two bags of blood in his arms.

_‘Kamille!’_ Fa finally managed. ‘What are you doing here?!’  
‘Fa-’ he stammered. ‘Look, I know, this is crazy, but now is probably a bad time-’  
He dropped the packages haphazardly at the foot of the bed and hung the fluids, fiddling with the drip chamber on the IV line.  
‘I have a turnover at the end of this, give me an hour. There’s a break room near the recovery ward, you can meet me there,’ he said without looking up.  
‘Yes… of course-’ Fa began, but the head consultant interrupted.  
‘Right, OR 3 is clear, let’s go. The radiographer is waiting for us there.’  
The nurses and registrars nodded, disengaged the stretcher’s wheel lock, and began to hurry down the middle of the ER. Kamille followed, his hand wrapped around the IV pole.  
Fa stood there, rooted to the ground for a second longer, while ER staff and wounded soldiers flowed around her.

*

Fa slowly paced the balcony outside the break room, watching the artificial sunset glitter across the dome of Von Braun City. Distant flashes illuminated the sky beyond the dome. The city, normally bustling by this hour, was deathly quiet. It was like everyone was holding their breath in anticipation of the battle that raged far above them. Like a war between gods, she thought.  
The light had all but faded by the time she heard someone come through the door behind her, much longer than an hour later. Kamille stepped out onto the narrow balcony, holding two steaming paper cups.  
‘You take your coffee black, right?’  
He was still dressed in the gown and cap, but the face mask was drawn under his chin.  
‘I do, thanks.’ She accepted the cup from him and leaned her back against the railing, studying his face. He’d kept his boyish look despite growing up, but that was marred by the obvious signs of fatigue. Bags hung under his eyes and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days. Fa knew she didn’t look much better.

‘How is he?’  
Kamille placed both elbows on the rail and slouched over.  
‘He’ll survive,’ Kamille said. ‘He had two punctured lungs, severe internal bleeding, and generalised hypoxia. But he’s stable.’  
Fa’s expression softened.  
‘Thank God.’  
‘Thank the surgeon,’ he shrugged. ‘There are some really talented guys here. We see a lot of those sorts of injuries.’  
She sighed deeply.  
‘But you’re really the one that saved his life,’ he said.  
‘Hm? Oh, not really…’  
Kamille gave her a shrewd look. ‘What happened out there? You pulled him from a wreck, didn’t you?’  
Fa sighed again.  
‘Yeah. Frey strayed too far from the _Ra Kiem_ ’s anti-air range and got shot down by Neo Zeon suits. I went in to try and shield him from fire but they ended up busting my Jegan’s backpack in the process. We were saved when we got dragged into the Moon’s orbit, and crashed on the edge of Mare Nectaris.’  
‘Ouch.’  
‘I pulled him from that cockpit,’ she muttered. ‘The whole suit was screwed up like a ball of paper. I don’t know what I thought, _if_ I thought we could even survive. I didn’t think. I just did.’  
Kamille smiled.  
‘Sounds reckless.’  
‘Sounds like something you would do.’  
He snorted, tucking a hand into his pocket under the gown.  
‘I haven’t been near a mobile suit in six years, and I plan to keep it that way.’  
He drew a packet of cigarettes out of his trouser pocket. Fa opened her mouth indignantly.  
_‘Seriously?’_  
Kamille scowled without looking at her.  
‘Can you just let me have this?’  
‘I can’t _believe_ you went to medical school only to start smoking-’  
‘Did you crash your mobile suit on the moon and walk all the way here just to scold me?’  
Fa closed her mouth slowly, with an expression that told him that this wouldn’t be the end of the conversation.  
_‘Anyway,’_ Kamille said past the cigarette in his mouth. ‘I still can’t believe I’d run into you again, here of all places.’  
‘How long has it been, Kamille?’  
‘Mmm. A while?’ He flicked the lighter. ‘A couple months, maybe?’  
_‘A couple months?_ The last time we spoke, you were still in university.’  
‘Oh… Well, I guess I’ve been busy lately. I was gonna tell you I got my internship here in Von Braun.’  
‘You could have at least replied to my calls!’  
Kamille shuffled his grip on the cup.  
‘Last time we spoke, I don’t remember you being on active duty.’  
Fa turned to him with a touch of irritation.  
‘I wasn’t, but I was recruited into Londo Bell in August last year based on recommendation.’  
‘Well,’ Kamille said stiffly. ‘Congratulations.’

Words unsaid hung in the air. Kamille avoided Fa’s gaze, smoke drifting across his face and lazily towards the empty streets below them.  
Then Fa exhaled, deeply, and slumped her shoulders.

‘I’m sorry, Kamille. What I meant to say was, it’s really good to see you again. Especially now.’  
‘You too, Fa.’  
‘How’s your internship going? What are you specialising in?’  
Kamille sipped his coffee. ‘Trauma surgery.’  
‘Really? That seems very… intense.’  
He nodded nonchalantly. ‘A little bit.’  
‘Are you enjoying it?’  
‘It’s better than being a pilot.’

The coffee was scalding hot and bitter tasting, but it reminded Fa how raw her throat was. The warmth from it soaked into her body blissfully.

‘On whose recommendation?’ asked Kamille.  
‘I’m sorry?’  
‘For your transfer to Londo Bell,’ he said. ‘Who recommended you?’  
Fa give him a wry smile.  
‘Can you guess?’  
His mouth flattened in distaste.  
‘It was Bright, wasn’t it?’  
‘Yes! You know, he’s up there in the _Ra Cailum_ right now.’  
Kamille snorted. ‘The further away I am from that guy, the happier I’ll be.’  
‘He still remembers you, you know. And there are still a lot of ex-AEUG members as part of the unit, they do too.’  
‘Sure,’ Kamille said flippantly.  
That same twinge of annoyance returned to Fa. Instead of acting on it, she closed her mouth. Her neck was starting to ache, providing a welcome distraction. She stood up and stretched her back, but was met with a sharp spike of pain that ran down her shoulders.

‘Ouch!’

Kamille looked at her in concern.  
‘Did you see anyone while you were in the ER?’  
‘No, you all had your hands full. Besides, I’m fine.’  
‘You had a crash, remember? You already have a bandage on your head. You should let me see.’ He stood upright and placed the cup and cigarette on the railing.  
‘It’s fine, you don’t need to.’  
‘Let me see your neck-’  
She batted his hands away insistently.  
‘Kamille, really, you’re on break- I’m fine!’  
‘Fa,’ he scowled at her. ‘Will you just let me do my job?’  
Fa was halfway through formulating another reply, but she faltered.  
‘Okay. Yes, fine.’  
She pulled apart the front clasps of her normal suit and shrugged it off her shoulders, stepping out of the boots. Underneath she was wearing a vest and leggings, and begrudgingly she had to admit she already felt better with the suit off. The recycled air was cool and fresh against her skin.  
Kamille laid his hands gently on her bare shoulders and she shivered. He smelt like tobacco and antiseptic. She heard him inhale quietly.  
‘I think you have pressure on your C6 nerve. It’s minor whiplash.’  
‘Really?’  
‘Hold on- I’m going to try something, don’t move.’  
He positioned his left hand under Fa’s chin, and his other at the nape of her neck.  
‘What are you- AH!’

Without warning, Kamille drove two knuckles, hard, upwards into her spine. Fa instinctively flinched and slammed the back of her fist into his face.  
The two of them staggered apart.

‘That hurt! What the hell did you _do?_ ’ she demanded.  
‘Why’d you hit me?!’  
‘Because you hit _me_ first!’  
Kamille nursed his nose with an injured expression.  
‘You hab a small ligabent tear in your spine,’ he explained nasally. ‘It’s gonna force the disc to press on your spinal cord. I just released some of the pressure. You’re welcome, jeez.’

Fa stared at him in disbelief, then gave her shoulder an experimental roll. Lo and behold, the shooting pains had subsided.

‘It’s not permanent. You should see a doctor when you can.’  
‘How- how on _earth_ did you do that?’  
Kamille made an “I don’t know” noise.  
‘Seriously. The pain’s gone. How did you know where to hit?’  
He rubbed his nose.  
‘I’m… I’m not entirely sure. It’s like the same feeling I get from a mobile suit.’  
‘In what way?’  
‘Like…’ He turned to the balcony, examining his hands. ‘Like sometimes when I see someone, I can understand their body. I get a feeling of what’s happening inside them.’  
‘You’re talking about your Newtype abilities.’  
‘Huh. I suppose so.’  
‘Do any of your supervisors know you can do that?’  
‘I mentioned it to the head consultant but I don’t think she believes in Newtype stuff.’  
‘You should bring it up again. Seriously. This could be of a huge benefit to people.’  
Kamille smiled wryly at her.  
‘You think so?’  
‘I know so.’

He looked into space with a gentle expression.  
‘It would be nice to feel like I’d be helping people with it.’  
He took a final drag from the cigarette and flicked the butt off the balcony.

As the glowing red speck disappeared below them, Fa’s mind wandered.  
‘Have you watched the news lately?’  
‘Yes, unfortunately,’ Kamille replied. ‘Always nice to see some old pals making it big.’  
Fa looked back up at the Earth.  
‘I didn’t think he was actually going to do it,’ she muttered. ‘I don’t think anyone took him seriously, myself included. And that ended up being our downfall.’  
‘Well, I didn’t believe him. Or I didn’t wanna believe him. Because you think you know someone, but then they go MIA for six years and return with a new haircut and a craving for genocide.’  
He sipped his coffee with a scowl.  
‘Quattro, Char, whatever the hell he’s calling himself. I guess some people can’t ever change.’  
‘I’m sorry, Kamille. I know you two were close.’  
Kamille shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t call it that. I’ve had a long time to think about it, at least. I feel more like I was… used.’  
He forced the last word out, hard and bitter.  
‘Neither he nor Amuro came to see me in hospital, or rehab.’  
‘Amuro sent you a letter, at least.’  
Kamille grunted.

He gestured at the nameplate on Fa’s normal suit.  
‘I see you’re a Lieutenant Junior Grade, now,’ he said, gracefully changing the subject.  
‘I am, thank you for noticing.’  
‘How are you finding it?’  
‘It’s a challenge,’ she admitted. ‘But I don’t know what else I could possibly be doing right now. You know, at the start of my recruitment they had me flying a GM-III, but I find the Jegan nicer to handle. It’s not as suited for heavy assault, but it’s lightweight and has good maneuverability. Though now I’m not so sure, since it’s lying half-buried in moon dust somewhere.’  
She contemplated the night sky.  
‘Have you heard about the new Zeta-type?’  
Kamille turned to her, eyebrows raised.  
‘No? It’s the RE-GZ, it’s in the prototype stage right now but a second suit is being produced. I’ve been in training for it.’  
‘Huh. Cool.’

Fa's patience finally broke.  
‘Alright, Kamille, could you at least pretend to be interested in my achievements?’  
He turned his head from her.  
‘I am interested.’  
‘Well, you’re doing a shit job of making it sound like you care. About me,’ she said before she could bite her tongue.  
‘I do care,’ he said, his voice tinged with irritation.  
‘Enough to write? To return a call? To check whether I was still alive these past months?!’  
‘Well-’ he muttered, still avoiding her gaze. ‘I’m sorry for being a little distracted.’  
‘You can’t just _do this_ to people, Kamille. You don’t get to disappear into your own little world while the rest of us deal with the consequences!’  
He turned to her.  
‘Is that what you think this is?’ he demanded. ‘That I’ve been busy daydreaming while a war goes on over my head? That would be a _privilege_.’  
‘ _No_ , Kamille! I mean I’ve been worried sick. Me, everyone else that gives a shit about you, we have no idea what’s going on with you!’  
‘Oh, you’ve been worried?’  
_‘Yes!’_ Fa said desperately. ‘You can’t keep pushing away the people that care! It’s selfish!’

Kamille glared at her, then turned away and fished another cigarette out of his pocket.  
‘I’m an adult, Fa, I can live my life without babysitters.’

‘If you refuse to make an effort,’ Fa said, choosing to ignore him. ‘You’ll lose those people.’

He lit the cigarette and said nothing.  
Fa stared at him, seething.

‘I don’t think I can forgive you for getting back in a cockpit,’ he finally said under his breath.  
‘Do _not_ make this about my life choices!’ Fa snapped.  
‘After everything that’s happened,’ he continued, irate. ‘After everything you’ve seen. And you still want to throw away your life like that.’  
‘You do not get to lecture me about this!’  
‘Who else can do it better than me?’ he shot back.  
‘Kamille!’ Fa could hear her voice growing louder. ‘You _cannot_ treat me like this. Not after everything I’ve done for you! Everything I sacrificed!’  
‘Oh, because I’m such a burden!’  
Fa recoiled.  
‘That’s not what I’m saying-’  
‘I always have been! Go on, admit it! I’m nothing but a thorn in your side, Fa.’  
_‘Stop_ being so _self-centred.’_  
‘You want to talk about self-centred? What’s self-centred is throwing yourself to your death in a _tiny_ little metal box, thinking you’re so great, thinking you have the power to change things, when in the end _nothing matters!_ Nothing _ever matters!!_ Nothing will change, no matter what you do, you’ll be killed like the rest of them and burn up in the fucking atmosphere until nothing is left.’  
Fa stepped away from Kamille’s sudden outburst.  
‘Stop it,’ she warned.  
The ones in there-’ he gestured wildly towards the hospital building. _‘They_ are the ones lucky enough to land before they _die_ on the operating table-’  
‘Stop-’  
‘What’s _selfish_ is you deciding to toss your life away while everyone else gets to watch-’

_‘So now you know how it feels!’_ she bellowed. _‘NOW you understand,_ Kamille! After all this _shit_ we went through, after I laid myself bare before you, _now you know_ how I felt back then! How I feel now! I worry sick about you, and what do I get in return? You throw it all in my face!’

It was Kamille’s turn to shut up. Fa screwed her hands into fists.

‘All I want from you is a little gratitude,’ she continued. ‘A sign to show that you _care about me._ I want- _I need you, Kamille.’_

Kamille closed his mouth. The cigarette burnt between his fingers, untouched.  
Fa breathed heavily through her nostrils, recovering her composure.

Silence passed between them.

‘I’m sorry,’ Fa muttered. ‘I-’  
‘No, I’m sorry,’ said Kamille, his voice level. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’  
Fa sighed. She was exhausted.  
‘I care,’ said Kamille. ‘I’m just- I worry, too. I worry a lot.’  
‘Then why hide?’  
‘Because it’s easier.’  
Fa sighed again.  
‘For a Newtype you can really be so goddamn dense.’  
Kamille snorted, a weak smile returning to the corners of his mouth.

‘You’re not a burden, Kamille, you never were.’  
‘And… and I don’t think you’re selfish, Fa.’  
Fa arched an eyebrow.  
‘Really?’  
Kamille sighed.  
‘No. You’re anything but. I… look, it's… It’s not you. The people I hate are the politicians and senior officers who sit snugly on Earth while they send people off to their deaths in a pointless war.’  
‘It’s not pointless, Kamille. I fight for the same reasons you did. To protect you. To protect innocent people. To protect the Earth.’  
‘But what happens when you're no longer able to fight,’ he snapped. ‘What happens when you're sick or injured, or disabled? When you're no longer of use to these people, they throw you away.’  
He pulled the cap off his head in frustration, letting his hair fall messily over his face.  
‘I just never, _ever_ want that to happen to you. I never want to see you come in through those doors on a stretcher, or worse. It’s all I can _ever_ think of when I’m in there.’

Fa paused, her eyes wide. She reached out a hand, hesitated, then placed it on his arm.  
‘Kamille…’  
‘When I’m in there, I never see Zeon, or the Federation, all I see are people. People whose lives are toyed with, all for some stupid battle. This one, the last one, the one before that. No-one-’  
His voice cracked.  
‘-no-one deserves this. No-one deserves to go through this.’  
Fa said nothing. She gently ran her hand down Kamille’s arm and wrapped her fingers around his hand.  
He held on, then held tighter.  
Fa pulled him closer and embraced him, and he returned the hug, and the two of them stood there in eachothers’ arms.  
Kamille placed his forehead on Fa’s shoulder and she felt the warmth of tears on her bare skin.  
‘I fight to protect you,’ she said quietly, placing one hand on the back of his head. ‘Like I’ve always done. I’ll always look after you.’  
She wound her fingers into his thick hair.  
‘But I need you to look after me, too.’  
Kamille nodded his head against her.  
‘I’m sorry…’  
‘And in the end, I’ll come home. I swear. Wherever we find home, I’ll be there.’  
She felt him swallow.  
‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

They stood still for a moment longer, above the silent city, until Kamille’s sobs gently subsided.  
His heart remained beating fast and hard enough for Fa to feel it echoed in her own ribcage.

‘Are you okay, Kamille?’  
He swallowed again.  
‘Don’t you feel it?’ His voice was rough.  
‘Feel what?’

A zap of electricity bolted down Fa’s spine and she shivered. Kamille squeezed her waist, then pulled apart from her, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He smiled tiredly at her.  
‘Listen,’ he said.

She listened, and listened again. And then the voices came to her, more like a memory than a sound.  
She inhaled sharply, raising a hand to her mouth.  
‘Oh, my God.’  
‘Can you hear them?’  
‘Katz…’ she whispered. ‘Reccoa… Emma… and there are so many others…’

Kamille rested one hand on her shoulder and turned his head to the sky.

A second later, they were doused in a brilliant flare of green light. It danced off the surface of Von Braun’s dome like an aurora.

‘What's going on?’ Fa breathed.  
The light caught where tears were drying on Kamille’s cheeks. He looked pensive.  
‘I think…’ he said quietly. ‘That it's over.’

In the sky far above them, the ring of light burned.

‘Those idiots,’ he muttered.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Kamille and Fa's brief appearance in the manga MSG moon crisis where they appear as a doctor and nurse. i loved the idea of kamille becoming a doctor and wanted to speculate a bit more, esp since at the time i started on this idea, i was working in a hospital myself (sorry for the medical jargon lol). i think it would make sense that being a newtype would probably be very useful in medicine.
> 
> also written because i have feelings on female gundam characters always cast as the caretaker-type character to the male protagonist, so i wanted a bit of a role reversal. fa (as does almost every other woman in zeta gundam) deserved better.
> 
> anyway. hope you enjoy! ✧


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